


imagine me and you

by peltonea



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 08:43:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20775746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peltonea/pseuds/peltonea
Summary: In which what remains of Joker succeeds in taking over his old frenemy, the dear, brutish Batman.(unfinished one-shot)





	imagine me and you

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THIS WORK TO BE HOSTED ON ANY SITE OTHER THAN AO3, FOR FREE. IF YOU ARE READING THIS ON A THIRD PARTY APP OR SITE, ESPECIALLY WHICH CHARGES A FEE OR OFFERS A SUBSCRIPTION, THE DEVELOPER DOES NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO PROFIT OFF MY WORK. PLEASE DO NOT SUPPORT THESE FRAUDS.
> 
> I started writing this when I first played Arkham Knight, about five years ago. I never finished, but I liked what I had, so I figured I'd post it. It was originally supposed to feature more villain murder, a couple fights with the Bat-fam, and a relationship with Harley Quinn, but.... well. It never ended up happening. Please enjoy, anyway. Maybe one day I'll come back and finish it.

Life's all fun and games. They call him 'oh god', 'you monster', and a hundred other names besides, but 'Joker' is the one he likes the best out of all the names he has had, or will ever have, he's decided. It's the one that sounds _just right _when it's cried and sobbed by his audience, yelled by those fools who try to ruin everything, whispered by his helpers and his allies and his darling Harley, and snarled through the gritted teeth of his best friend in all the world.

Speaking of his friend, the Bat is nowhere to be seen. Joker has been here for _hours_, or at least that's how it feels with all these hostages being so noisy and making those crying sounds which, while usually somewhat satisfying, right now is just annoying. And Joker is _oh so good _at dealing with annoying things.

"We're going to play a game!" he announces, springing out of the office chair he'd been idly spinning in, and raises his arms above his head as a ringmaster would. "A fight against these lovely gentlemen- if you die, you lose! If you don't, you go forward to the next round, where I start shooting at you! The winner-- well, the idea is that none of you win, but I might let you go if you don't die. Maybe."

The goons he'd borrowed from Two-Face-- oh, all right, he'd _stolen _them-- step forward. They've learnt well, most folks do when you show them first-hand all the terrible things that could happen to those who don't listen. They exchange nervous glances before one steps forward, and pushes one of the younger hostages, a college-aged kid who looked a little athletic. 

"C'mon," the thug says. "Fight me." There's a whispered "I'll go easy" that the thug thinks is too quiet for Joker to hear, and usually he would have danced right up to the dumb brute and blown his brains out for daring to disobey him like that-- in front of his audience no less-- but luckily for the thug, a Bat drops from the ceiling and lands with a barely audible thud right in front of Joker. The shadowed figure draws itself up to an impressive height (six foot two, plus an extra two inches for the soles of his fancy boots and another three for the pointy ears on his helmet, Joker has counted) and the grim bass tones of justice resound.

"Joker," he growls, and a thrill runs up Joker's spine. The fury laden in that one word is beyond his vivid imagination-- the decoy hostages and explosions must've really pissed the Bat off. Or maybe it was left over from the "death" of his Robin a couple months before. Maybe he'll show Batsy his handiwork one of these days, get the broken kid to carve a permanent smile in that angry line of Batman's mouth.

"Oh, darling! You came!" Joker leaps from his chair and twirls around the Bat. "I was so worried that you weren't going to show! I have the most wonderful surprise in store for you!" He bats his eyelashes, and a strong hand closes around his throat. Joker has to work to choke a final retort through his constricted windpipe. "…And before you ask, it's not another dead Robin."

For his troubles, Joker gets a fist in the face, but he's well rewarded by the expression on the Bat's face when he spots the booby traps and the tanks of Joker's special Laughing Gas and realises things aren't going to be quite so simple after all. Admittedly, Joker can only see the Bat's bright blue eyes widen and his lips press into a thin line, but it makes his heart skip a beat irregardless.

* * *

"Those were the days, weren't they, Brucie?" Joker asks his reflection, as he holds a red lipstick up to the cheap light in the diner restroom. "You, me, mayhem… I really thought that was over, my being dead and all."

Brucie stares grimly at him from inside the looking-glass and doesn't reply, though Joker can feel his hatred and revulsion burning deep inside his chest. Joker blows him a kiss, and carries on rambling, sparing the cowl naught but a cursory glance. It's still resting on the wall-mounted hand-dryer, there's not a whole lot of room to work with, and the sink is cluttered with bleach and the makeup products he has yet to test on this new skin. He twists the lipstick and slicks some onto his mouth (such kissable lips), and stares critically into the mirror. Too bright. He needs blood-red, not neon-red. On his previous face, either shade would have sufficed, but Brucie's skintone is warm and alive where Joker's had been cold and plastic, and that means complimentary colours rather than just anything that contrasts with a sickly white. Something with a blue or purple undertone...

"Boy, was I glad to figure out that wasn't the case! I'm sure you were too, dear. And now, everything's just about perfect. I have a Robin who trusts me, an ex-protégé looking to re-establish connections, a love interest, the entire GCPD, and even a dear old English butler. And you'll get to see everything I do to them in graphic detail…" Joker wipes away an imaginary tear. "What a beautiful continuation of our story…"

Brucie-in-the-mirror grits his teeth and glares at Joker, but he can't do anything. Joker made absolutely certain of that. The desperate, fearful rage of earlier had so quickly soured into impotent despair, and all it had taken was a very sharp knife and some very scared folks who'd missed the evacuation. 

"Well, I say 'continuation'," Joker adds, wiping the offending shade from his skin. "But honestly, you're not sure whether I'm actually the ghost of your bestest buddy, or if you're just crazy. Isn't ambiguity wonderful?"

He picks up a darker shade of lipstick and twists it open, only to be interrupted by a bleeping sound and a red light flashing on his forearm. He winks at Brucie-- "looks like we're awfully popular tonight, sweet cheeks"-- and puts the cowl back on in one smooth motion, then activates the call screen.

"Sir," Alfred says. "I've been looking at your tracker, and you've been in the same building for some twenty minutes now. Is everything all right?" 

"Everything's fine," Joker says flatly. It's his very best Bat impression. "I'm just checking to see if Scarecrow left any clues at the diner."

"But… you said that you'd dealt with Scarecrow, sir. Why--"

"He mentioned working with other people, not just the Arkham Knight, before he fell," Joker fights to contain the grin that wants to break out over his face. Defenestrating Scarecrow had been so cathartic, so much fun, he'd love to do it all over again. "I thought it was worth looking into. This was where Scarecrow's plan started, after all."

"Ah, I see…" Alfred says. "Have you found anything?"

"Most of the evidence has been cleared away by the GCPD, but there's an unfinished Anarky symbol scratched into the table where Scarecrow's man was sitting."

"That is troubling, sir…" Alfred looks worried. "I thought he had been put off this kind of criminal activity during your previous meeting. Shall I investigate Anarky's movements within Gotham in the last few months?"

"Please do," Joker says. "I'm going to meet with Robin. Even if Scarecrow is gone, the Knight is still a threat."

"Are you going to tell him about Oracle, sir?" Alfred asks, and Joker has to abruptly end the call before he starts laughing so hard it physically hurts. Oracle? His best joke yet!

"You really… don't laugh much, do you?" Joker gasps, between giggles and fits of howling. He can tell because even though Brucie is in impeccable physical shape, his lungs are already constricting and his mouth is cramping, and not even twenty seconds have gone by. "You need to lighten up!"

And then Joker laughs some more, until his vision darkens and even Brucie's lungs of steel threaten to burst.

* * *

"You… you killed him," the Arkham Knight says, horror permeating his electronically distorted voice. "You don't kill."

"Well, I do now," Joker says. Kicking Scarecrow through a window of the airship? Genius. Too bad Bats didn't think of it beforehand. Or rather, too bad he _did_ think about it but decided to be all 'holier-than-thou' with his no killing policy. Boooring!

"You--" the Arkham Knight is speechless, lost for words. "You--"

"I'm what?" Joker asks, impatient. This Arkham Knight character is an idiot, isn't he?

"You're going to pay! You're not getting away with this!" the Knight snarls, before speeding away in his… helicopter thingy. Joker doesn't know what that thing's called, and he doesn't really care, although Batsy mutters something about helicarriers and military-grade whatevers. 

Joker simply snorts, and moves onto his next, excellent, joke.


End file.
